“We’ll have to find him some other way,” Jasper says over his shoulder.
Great. So we’ve made zero progress.
Or less. Just as Jasper’s at the door and I’m two steps behind him, something heavy collides with my back, and I tumble to the floor. Actually, it’s two heavy somethings. Two bodies, engaged in some furious combat, and I get tangled up in their fight. They may not even notice I’m there as I get slammed against a table leg, caught up in their momentum.
“Jasper!” I call out, though a little bit of me dies—though better than all of me dying, I guess?—inside at the idea of needing to ask him for help. He’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place.
One of the two fighting bodies grabs hold of my arm, twisting until I have to roll to avoid snapping the bone. My fingers scrabble on the sticky floor. Tetanus, here I come. But I freeze when white-hot pain buries itself in my side.
What is it Max said?
Oh no. Not again.
The tearing of a blade slicing into organs gets worse as I push to my feet. The fight has moved away from me, and Jasper is there in a second.
“Morgan?”
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” I say, even though I know I’m not. The pain in my back is excruciating, and my whole body is going numb. Jasper pulls me out through the door and onto the street, but we’re only a step away from the bar when the world goes sideways.
Oh. I fell.
Hello, concrete. Nice to see you again.
“Morgan.”
I wonder how many people can say they’ve had legitimate déjà vu involving their own death.
“I think he hit a kidney,” I say.
“You can’t die from a knife to the kidney. Not this quickly.”
I laugh as the streetlights dim in a way that is already becoming familiar. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“No, wait. Morgan. I’ll call an ambulance, hang on.”
“Tomorrow,” I say.
“You’ll remember me tomorrow?” he asks. “Promise?”
Oh god, I hope so. He’s clearly terrible at plans, so he can’t be the one in charge. At the very least, I have to remember that part.
“Tomorrow, you get to die for a change, because this seriously sucks,” I say as my voice fades and the world goes black.
CHAPTER 6
Any blind date that starts with?—
I’m so glad Jasper’s the one who’s always late to this thing. I am never late. I get sweaty if I’m not fifteen minutes early for important meetings and appointments. If I had to be late to the blind date from hell in perpetuity, I’d lose my mind.
Also, hi again, Mother. I glance up at the mural on the wall. Nice to see you. Did you know there’s a drag queen on the south side of town who knows who we are? Who else does?
Yes, I know it’s pretentious to always call my mother “Mother.” It was her decision, not mine. She said moms were women who baked cookies and went to soccer games, and she did none of that. We can talk about what her insistent distinction between herself and “those other moms” meant for her own sense of femininity on a day when I don’t die for the sixty-third time in a row.
“You sure you don’t want something to eat? I could cook you up something.” Vee comes up to the table.
“Who else knew about Mother?” I ask, not bothering with her question.
She blinks a few times, clearly not expecting me to go right for the heavy stuff.
